All About George
by bookwormgirlLH
Summary: [ALL ABOUT GEORGE] George Kinsey doesn't feel brilliant, but doesn't expect it to be anything more than a stomach bug. But it turns out to be something much worse than that... Based on the ITV drama/comedy staring Rik Mayall. Rated T for language. I would really appreciate reviews!
1. Chapter 1

George Kinsey awoke to the pounding bleat of the alarm clock, feeling as if he had only just fallen asleep, he was so shattered. He felt so tired that he could fall asleep again, even with the alarm blaring, but his wife's voice made him remember where he was - in bed, on a Monday morning, having to go to work in an hour.

"Turn it off, George." His wife Annie moaned, putting her head under her pillow.

"Sorry, sorry." George mumbled apologetically, fumbling for the clock and turning it off, much to Annie's relief. The pair of them layed there for a few minutes in silence, until George spoke, "So, are you going to get up?" he asked mildly.

She smirked, "I'd rather stay here." she said, before kissing George softly. He responded with a brief, "me too." before pulling her close.

They pulled apart abruptly as seven-year old Ben thundered into the room.

"Get up you lazy people!" He cried cheerfully, landing on George's balls with a thump, which made George wince, eyes watering.

"Careful where you're putting your knees, Ben." He groaned, holding himself.

"We're getting up, Ben." Annie said with a cheerful sigh, easing herself out from under the thick duvet. She tutted with mock impatience at George, who was still groaning in pain, "Come on, George, get up, you can't stay in bed all day."

"You wouldn't be saying that if someone had kneed you in the bol- I mean balls." George added hastily as he remembered that Ben was in the room, but he, too, got out of bed, wincing slightly.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, Dad." Ben smiled apologetically at his father.

"It's alright, mate," George replied, "but just watch where you're landing next time you jump on us."

"I will." Ben paused, "You were about to say bol-"

"Ben!" Annie snapped, "don't swear." She glared at George, who was trying hard not to laugh, before heading into the en suite.

"Your mum's right, Ben, that's not a nice word to use." George glanced at the clock, "Hurry up and get ready, Ben, or you'll be late for school." He gently pushed Ben in the direction of the hallway, but just as Ben was about to leave the room, he whispered into his ear, "I was going to say it."

Ben grinned broadly and ran down the landing, towards the bathroom. Chuckling, George went and knocked on the en suite door.

"Are you going to be a while, Annie?" He called, hearing the sound of running water.

"I'm having a shower, so yes." She yelled back. As though she could see the scowl on her husband's face, Annie added, "If you wanted the en suite that much, you should have got here first." George playfully flipped off the door. "I saw that!" she snapped.

"What? No you didn't!" George replied in disbelief.

"Well I sensed it. If you want a bathroom, go and queue up on the landing."

George knew he had lost, "Fine." he muttered, pulling on his dressing gown and heading to the bathroom. But as he turned the corner, George realised he wasn't going to be using it any time soon. Just as Annie had said, a queue has formed outside the bathroom door: Russell, his step son, was leaning against the door, and his daughter Amy was whingeing beside him.

"I'm guessing Ben's in the loo?" George said, raising his eyebrows as Amy glared at him.

"No shit, Sherlock." She muttered moodily.

George didn't even attempt to tell her off, he just joined the queue, his urge to urinate rapidly increasing in strength.

Twenty minutes later, George emerged from the bathroom, clean- shaven and refreshed, and went back into the now empty bedroom to change. As he bent forwards to pull off his socks, George suddenly felt a wave of nausea, but dismissed it as hunger pains, and when he straightened up, he felt unaccountably dizzy. Sitting down, George waited for the dizziness to pass, and when he felt steady again, he padded down the stairs in his clean socks, telling himself he would feel better after some food. Walking into the crowded kitchen, George found the half empty corn flakes packet and poured himself a bowl, before sitting down next to Amy.

"Good morning, Amy." He said cheerfully.

"What's good about it?" Amy scowled, not looking up from her strawberry jam smothered toast.

"Well, it's a lovely, sunny day and-"

"We've got to go to school." She added, cutting her father off.

"Good point." George muttered, knowing he had been defeated in a debate for the second time that morning.

"Yeah, my class have double PE today, what could be worse than that?" Russel shuddered.

"Are you kidding me?" Amy retorted, "I've got double maths, and I'd swap with you any day, I love PE."

George zoned out of their pointless argument as he felt a dull ache in his abdomen, which seemed to get worse with every biter he ate. He pushed his bowl away from him.

"Are you alright, George, you're a bt pale?" Annie asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, I'm just feeling a bit sick." He replied truthfully, rubbing his abdomen under the table.

"I hope you haven't got the winter vomiting virus - they're all coming down with it at Ben's school, aren't they, Ben." Annie pondered, looking at the seven-year old, who was gulping down his glass of milk so fast that it dribbled down his chin.

"Yeah, one of the boys in my class threw up on Friday and it went all over the teacher, the floor and his desk." Ben replied with a tad too much enthusiasm.

"That's disgusting." Amy groaned.

"But if you feel worse, George, do come home. I don't want you infecting everyone at work." Annie said seriously.

"It's nice to see you care about my welfare." George replied sarcastically.

Annie shook her head fondly, before seeing the time on the clock. "You'd better be off, George, they aid on the radio that there are road works everywhere today, and it'll probably mean you'll be stuck in traffic."

George grimaced, but clamoured to his feet, "Come on, Ben." He said, and his youngest son followed him out to the car.

After dropping Ben off at the primary school, George drove to the Kinsey and Sons building site, ready for an uneventful day at work - but he didn't know how dramatic his day was going to be later on...


	2. Chapter 2

George stumbled through the doorway into the office, where his father, Gordon, younger brother Dave and Jess were all standing around, drinking tea. They looked over as they heard the door open.

"What time do you call this?" Gordon asked, Dave grinning smugly from behind his back.

"The time I start work." George replied innocently, looking at his watch.

Gordon shrugged, "Oh yeah," he paused, "Just get on with it, George." He turned around to Dave pulling faces at his brother, raising his eyebrows at his youngest son, who hurriedly smoothed out his facial expression, before sitting down at his desk.

George obediently sat down and switched on his computer with his left hand, keeping his right hand under the desk to rub his stomach.

"Are you alright, George?" Jess asked sympathetically, looking over at George's pale face.

"Of course he is, Jess." Dave replied flippantly. "He's a hypochondriac - he thought he had TB when he had a cough, didn't you George?"

Jess chuckled, and George, realising that they weren't going to believe him if he told them about his stomach ache, grinned weakly and nodded.

Dave and Jess left it at that, and George sat at his desk, feeling the pain in his abdomen increase steadily until he knew that he was going to be sick. He sat very still, feeling the acid burning his throat, fighting the stomach cramps, but when he retched, vomiting into his mouth, George knew he had to do something. Standing up slowly, feeling his legs wobbling beneath him, George sauntered as causally as he could out of the porta-cabin, before breaking into a frantic run as soon as he shut the door. He only just staggered into the porta-loo in time, for only seconds later, George vomited violently down the pan, throat burning, mouth sour, eyes watering as sweat ran down his back, having to hang onto the filthy toilet seat to stop himself falling. George retched loudly in the hope that someone would come and help him, but he was drowned out by the sounds of the building site, and no one came to his aid. When he had finally finished, George flushed the chemical toilet, wiped his mouth on a tissue, and rubbed antibacterial hand gel into his trembling hands, wishing there was a real sink so he could was the foul taste from his mouth.

George staggered back out of the loo, feeling the strong wind hit him in the face, and shivered, but hoped it was giving his white cheeks some colour. Jess and Dave jumped as they heard the door open, and jumped apart before George entered the room. Jess took one look at his deathly pale, clammy face, which showed an agonised expression, and rushed over.

"You look awful, George, have you been sick?" She asked, voice full of concern, taking George's arm as she saw how unsteady he looked.

"I'm fine." He mumbled, voice shaking slightly as he felt another violent stomach cramp.

Jess didn't look convinced, "Don't lie, George, you smell like vomit."

"Nice." Dave chuckled, but shut up when Jess shot him a look.

"Gordon!" Jess called, and he opened his office door.

"What is it - bloody hell, George, you look like shit!" He exclaimed as he saw his eldest son.

"See." Jess said somewhat triumphantly to George and Dave.

George sighed, "Fine, I've been sick, okay?" He said defensively, but his legs suddenly gave way and he fell to his knees. The pain in his stomach was now overwhelmingly intense: it stabbed at his guts so badly it was like having razors inside him, and had now moved to his lower right abdomen, which George knew meant something bad, but his head was hurting so much he couldn't think straight. He squeaked, letting a few tears trickle silently down his clammy cheeks.

"George!" Gordon cried, crouching down beside George, watching him struggle to suppress the sobs trying to escape his mouth.

George opened his mouth to tell them about the pain, but instead he projectile vomited all over Dave's trousers, before doubling over, wrapping both arms around his abdomen. "I'm sorry, Dave." he slurred, before slumping sideways into Gordon, unconscious.


End file.
